Locked Doors
by SpectraVondergeist
Summary: Something terrifying happens to Callie late one night, and now she is living in fear. How can she protect Jude when it seems her world has ended? Find out what Callie and Jude endured while living in the Olmstead home, in this prequel to The Fosters, which reveals their dark and troubling past. Warning: contains some descriptions of abuse and violence. Enjoy the story!
1. Chapter 1

I do not own The Fosters or any of the characters.

Chapter 1.

When Callie's bedroom door creaked open, she didn't hear it. The 15-year old girl was fast asleep. She didn't know anything was amiss until she felt a weight on her bed. She rolled over and opened her eyes in the dim light.

"Liam?" She asked, squinting in the dark. On the edge of her bed sat her 19-year-old foster brother. "What are you doing here? She asked, worry creeping into her thoughts. Was Jude, her little brother, sick? Had he had a nightmare? She started to sit up, but Liam pushed her back down.

"I just had to see you, Cal," he said. "You look so beautiful." He leaned down to kiss her on the lips, and though she knew it was wrong, she gave in and returned the kiss. Liam pulled away and began to kiss her neck. It felt good at first, but then the kisses got harder, almost painful.

She pulled away. "Cut it out. That hurts," She whispered.

Liam stopped kissing her, and ran his hand down her leg, caressing her thigh. Callie's heart pounded in fear, yet it was somehow thrilling.

"I want you to have sex with me," Liam whispered.

"No," said Callie. "I can't. I'm not ready."

"Come on, Cal," Liam replied. "I love you. Don't you love me? No one has to know." He squeezed her thigh with a light pressure.

"I said no," Callie said fiercely. "If you don't stop it, I'll scream."

As quick as a bullet, Liam's hand was around her throat. "Scream, and I'll snap your neck," he hissed. He held his other hand over her mouth. "Tell anyone about this, and you'll be sorry." He continued, "I'll tell Dad you've been trying to seduce me. They'll send you to a group home, and Jude will be all alone."

Fear pulsed through Callie's body. What if what Liam just said really happened? Jude would be lost without her. She was his only real family. She might never see him again.

"If you tell anyone, it'll be the last thing you do in this house. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

Callie nodded as much as his sweaty palm would allow.

"Good girl," Liam whispered. "Open your legs."

Callie did as she was told, shaking with fear. She felt him move over her body, then she felt the pain. Tears stung her eyes, and she screamed into Liam's palm.

To Be Continued


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2.

After Liam left her room, Callie lay in silence. Covered in cold sweat, she shook in fear. As soon as she was sure her foster brother was really gone, she crept out of bed. Her legs felt like jelly. She locked her bedroom door, then went back to her bed and wrapped herself in her comforter. She lay awake until the sun started to rise.

When the first rays of morning sun came through her window, she stood up. She looked down at her bed. A pinkish bloodstain marred her bed sheet, a sign of her lost innocence. She stared at the stain as if it had slapped her in the face, then she put on her bathrobe, unlocked the door, and sneaked into the hall bathroom to shower away Liam's touch. While showering, she became aware of how much she hurt. She had a terrible ache, that she couldn't place anywhere in particular. Maybe it was her soul that hurt so bad? How could this happen to her? Hadn't she been through enough? She silently cried, letting the hot water wash away her tears.

After she got out of the shower, she hurried back to her room, praying she hadn't woke up her foster parents, who were sleeping upstairs. If only they knew who their precious son really was. She locked her door tight, then got into bed, hoping sleep would overcome her.

Later that morning, the Olmstead family was seated around the table, about to eat breakfast. Jude had just broken a juice glass, and Mr. Olmstead smacked him, so he sat in his chair, crying.

"Where the Hell is Callie? Mr. Olmstead growled.

"Probably still sleeping," Liam offered. "Should I go wake her up?"

"No," said Mrs. Olmstead. "You stay and eat your breakfast. I'll get her." She went to Callie's room and tried to open the door, but it was locked.

"Callie?" She called. "Get up and come to breakfast." There was no answer. "Unlock this door, Callie," she called louder. There was still no response, so she walked back down the hall to get her husband.

"She isn't answering me," she told him. "Her door is locked, too."

"I'll handle this," Mr. Olmstead said. He'd woken up in a terrible mood, and it just got worse. He stalked down the hall and tried to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He pounded it, and yelled; "We don't lock doors in this family, Callie. You get yourself over here and unlock it now. I'm counting to five."

He began to slowly count, and when he got to four, he heard Callie's bed creak, and her bare feet move across the floor. Finally, he heard the lock click open.

Callie felt like Hell as she followed her foster father to the kitchen.

"You sleep okay, Callie?" Liam asked.

Callie shot him a poisonous glare. "What do you care?" She asked, but no one seemed to be paying attention.

She sat in the chair next to Jude. "You alright, Judie?" She asked. Jude pouted in his seat, but then Callie tousled his hair, and he seemed to let go of whatever had been bothering him. If only Callie could forget her troubles that easily.

To Be Continued


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3.

Callie didn't care what Mr. Olmstead said. Since it was Saturday, she spent much of the day in her room, with the door locked. He'd lock himself away too, if he'd just been through what she had. She spent most of the time thinking about what had happened to her, over and over. If only she'd done something, anything to stop it. Her fear of losing Jude clouded her judgement. She couldn't blame him, though. It was all Liam. The sad part was, she _did_ have a crush on her foster brother, until last night. He seemed so nice, and he was _so_ handsome. She had wondered what it would be like to have him want her before. And even that wasn't the most humiliating part. Why, oh _why_, after the initial pain, did sex with Liam have to feel so good? And why did her body have to respond the way it did? She felt betrayed, and so ashamed that she couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Mr. Olmstead yelling through the door. "Callie, I mean it! Get over here and unlock the damn door. If you lock it again, I'm going to remove the lock altogether."

Callie threw her pillow across the room, and stomped to her door. She unlocked it spitefully. "Why can't you leave me alone? " She yelled. "What is your problem?"

"I want to know what the hell is going on in there!" Her foster father yelled back. "Are you doing drugs or something?"

"No!" Said Callie. "I just want to be alone."

"Fine, but I'm warning you, young lady. I've had it with your attitude. You're on thin ice with me. Keep the damn door unlocked! It's a fire hazard, and I don't like it."

Mr. Olmstead turned and left, and Callie slammed the door behind him. At that moment, she hated him as much as she now hated Liam.

That evening, Callie was sitting in the living room playing cards with Jude. "Jude," she said. "Do you want to sleep in my room tonight?"

"Why?" Asked Jude? "You scared of the dark?"

"Maybe," Callie replied. "Please, Jude? I'll owe you." She looked into the little boy's eyes, trying to communicate her desperation with him through silence.

"Oh, okay," said Jude.

Callie once more burned with shame. She couldn't believe she was using her little brother, but as she dressed for bed, she felt a little better knowing she wouldn't have to be alone.

Jude came into her room in his pajamas. Callie got into her freshly made bed, and her brother snuggled beside her. She shut off her lamp, and held him in her arms. He rested his head on her chest.

"Callie?" He whispered.

"Yeah?" She answered.

"For real, why do you want me to sleep in here?"

Callie shut her eyes in dread. "I can't tell you. Go to sleep."

"Please?" Jude asked. "I won't tell anyone."

Callie looked down at her brother. "If I tell you, you can't breath a word of it to anyone. If you do, we might be separated forever, so it has to be our secret. Do you promise not to say a thing?"

Jude nodded. "I promise."

"Okay, then," whispered Callie. "Spit swear."

The sibling spit into their palms, then shook hands.

Callie sighed deeply. "The reason I want you to sleep with me," she whispered, "Is because last night, Liam came into my room and hurt me. I'm scared he'll do it again, and if you're in here, he won't. Okay?"

"Mr. Olmstead hurts me sometimes," Jude whispered back.

Callie held him tighter. "I know, baby. But the way Liam hurt me is totally different."

"What did he do to you?" Jude asked. He sounded frightened.

Callie paused, not knowing how much to tell the 10-year-old boy. "You might be to young to understand, but it's like this; he did _things_ to my private parts, that I didn't want him to. I told him to stop, but he did it anyway."

"Did you cry?" Jude asked.

"Yes," said Callie. "I cried."

"I wish I could beat him up," Jude told her. He snuggled closer to his sister. "Callie, I'll sleep in here every night, if you want. And you don't owe me for it. I won't let Liam hurt you again."

"Thanks, Judie. I won't let anyone hurt you, either." Callie squeezed his hand and kissed his forehead. She knew she would be safe for now. She sensed that she and Jude's days with the Olmsteads were numbered, anyway. She'd had that feeling for a long time. If they could just hold on a little longer, sooner or later they would go somewhere else. Maybe the next place would be better? For now, she knew that all they had was each other.

To Be Continued


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4.

Callie lay awake in the dark. It was the third night since Jude had been sleeping in her room. Right now, he was lying next to her, curled up in a fetal position, snoring softly. She could smell his shampoo, and his icy little feet were touching her leg. The time on her alarm clock had just changed to two o'clock, when Callie heard footsteps in the hallway. Her stomach clenched in fright. The footsteps paused outside her door. _No, no, no! _Callie's mind raced, matching the beat of her heart.

"Jude?" She whispered in a choked little voice. Her tongue felt thick. Jude didn't stir. Callie sucked in her breath and shut her eyes tightly, preparing to rouse her brother awake if necessary. But several seconds passed, and no one came into the room. Callie dared open one eye, as she heard whoever was out there descend down the hallway.

That morning, Callie and Jude, already dressed for school, went into the kitchen for breakfast. Liam and his parents were at the table already. Mrs. Olmstead turned to the siblings; "Jude?" She asked. "Why haven't you been sleeping in your room?"

Jude looked at Callie desperately, and she nodded her chin slightly to reassure him. "He's, uh, been having nightmares, so I told him he can stay in my room," she told her foster mother.

"Yeah," provided Jude. "If I know Callie is there, I don't feel so scared."

Mr. Olmstead snorted. "It ain't natural for a ten-year-old boy to sleep with his sister. Jude, you're sleeping in your own bed."

"No!" Jude shouted. "I'm staying with Callie!"

Callie turned to her foster father, and said firmly; "He's _my_ brother, and he can stay with me if he wants to."

"Suit yourself," said Mr. Olmstead. "I'm only trying to toughen him up. Don't come blaming me if he grows up to be a sissy."

"Why do you have to be so mean to him?" Callie asked. She started to cry. "I'd love Jude just the same no matter _what_ he grows up to be. Do you care about anyone that much?"

Mr. Olmstead's face reddened, and his wife turned to the kids. "You two better get to school," she said, guiding them to the door.

"I hate him!" Callie shouted when they were safely down the sidewalk. "I'm so sorry, Jude. It was my fault he was mean to you. I feel so bad."

"Aw, it's okay," Jude replied. "He would have just been mean to me about something else, anyway. Besides, you've always been there for me. Now I need to be there for you."

Callie smiled. She loved that kid.

"Callie?" Jude asked her. "Is it true what you said, that you'd really love me the same, no matter what I am?"

"Yes," said Callie.

"Even if I was a garbage man?" Asked Jude.

"Mm-hm," Callie replied.

"Even if I was a plumber?" Jude asked again.

Callie laughed. "Yes!" She said. It felt good to laugh again.

"Even if I was a bank robber?" Jude ventured.

"Yes, Jude. I'd be disappointed if you became a bank robber, but I wouldn't love you any less."

"Thanks, Callie," said Jude. "I'll love you no matter what, too."

To Be Continued


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5.

As Callie withdrew deeper into herself, school became a refuge. She was safe there, and Jude was safe in the elementary school next door. There was no foster father yelling at them, and best of all, no Liam staring at her hungrily, mocking her. But the burden of what happened to her was always there. She couldn't escape it, no matter how hard she tried. And she was exhausted. So much so, that she fell asleep in class while working on a history quiz, and awoke to her teacher calling her name.

"Callie, do you feel well?" Mrs. Taylor asked. "You look a little pale."

"I'm fine," Callie lied.

"Is everything okay at home?" The teacher pressed.

"I guess so. Yeah." Answered Callie.

"Well, try to get more sleep." Mrs. Taylor told her, as she continued down the aisle of the classroom.

Callie wished she could call Mrs. Taylor back, and tell her, no, _nothing _was okay at home. But she couldn't. On her way to class that morning, she'd even stopped outside the guidance counselor's door. She longed to go in and tell him what happened to her, and how scared and angry she was. She just wished she could talk to someone, anyone. But she just kept walking. She couldn't risk the consequences of telling. She honestly believed that Liam could, and would, destroy she and Jude's future as a family if she did. Maybe even hurt them. Besides that, the guidance counselor was a man. She would rather die than tell a man the things Liam did to her.

After lunch, Callie had art class. She liked art. It was the one outlet where she could express herself and blow off some steam, by slapping clay and putting dark, angry slashes on clean, white paper. When the bell rang, ending class, Callie was rinsing her paintbrushes at the sink. The other students were already filing out the room. Callie dried her brushes, then took them to the supply cupboard. As she was putting them away, something caught her eye. Several sharp craft knives rested in a cup. Callie quickly looked around to make sure no was watching, then slid one of the knives into her pocket and left the classroom.

That afternoon, Callie locked herself in the bathroom. It was the only place she could get some privacy in that house that had become her personal hell. She turned the craft knife over in her hand. It was sleek and precise looking. In one of the first foster homes Callie and Jude lived in, she shared a room with a teenage girl who had been sexually abused. The girl, Julie was her name, used to cut herself. Callie remembered watching her in fascination.

"Why do you do that?" She'd asked.

Julie told her it made some of the pain go away.

"How can hurting yourself more make you hurt less?" Callie asked, genuinely curious.

"It just does," said Julie. "I guess because it's like, when I can see my pain, then it's easier to deal with."

At 11 years old, Callie didn't understand. But now she did. She could finally see how much Julie hurt, because she hurt the same way. She'd liked Julie. The older girl looked out for her. But one night, Julie accidentally cut herself to deep. She was hospitalized, and never returned to the foster home.

_I wouldn't be that careless_, Callie thought, as she studied the knife. _Just do it_, her inner voice told her. Her inner voice, just then, sounded like Liam's. She felt sick. Lately, his voice in her head had even started to make her believe that maybe she'd done something to deserve what happened to her. She felt dirty; no amount of scrubbing could make her clean.

Callie held her breath and pressed the knife to the pale skin inside her wrist. When she took it away, a thin line of red blood was in it's place. She waited to feel better. _Why isn't it working?_ She thought. She put the blade to her skin once again, and made a second cut below the first one.

Someone pounded on the bathroom door.

"Go away!" Callie yelled. She tossed the knife on the counter.

"Callie?" Said Jude, outside the door. "Let me in. _Please!_ I have to pee."

"Can't you hold it?" She asked her brother.

"No," he begged. "I have to go now!"

"Fine," said Callie. She opened the door and let Jude, who was practically dancing, into the bathroom. While Jude was using the toilet, Callie ran cold water over her wrist. She watched pink-tinted water go down the drain.

Jude came up behind her. "What happened?" He asked. His little face went white.

"It's nothing, Judie." Callie told him. "Just wash your hands and forget about it."

Jude saw the knife as he soaped up his hands. He picked it up. "You got cut with this, didn't you?"

Callie grabbed the knife from his wet hands. He picked up her arm and studied the cuts. "How did it happen?" He asked. "Was it on accident?"

"No," Callie told him quietly. "It wasn't an accident. They say if you cut yourself, it makes pain- the kind I have- go away."

"Can I try it?" Jude asked.

"No!" Callie yelled. "You don't _ever_ copy this. _Ever!_" She loosened the blade from it's handle, and threw it in the toilet. She flushed it down.

"It doesn't work, anyway," She told her brother. She sat on the edge of the bathtub and sobbed, her chest heaving. Right then, she felt worthless.

Jude came up next to her and rubbed her back. "Why don't we _both_ just forget about it?" He whispered.

**To Be Continued**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6.

That day in the bathroom, Callie vowed never to harm herself again. She still hurt inside, every moment of every day, but what she did didn't solve her problems, and she knew she had to set a better example for her little brother. It would kill her if Jude, her baby, hurt himself imitating something reckless he'd seen her do. He was all she had to live for. All that really mattered. She wouldn't take away any more of his innocence by letting him see the ugliness she saw. Doing so was letting Liam win.

As hard as it was, life went on. Callie went to school, and the rest of the time, she and Jude stuck together. She appreciated his presence. Especially at night, when in the darkness, her throat would tighten so she could hardly swallow and panic overtook her.

Consequently, the Olmstead household was uneventful, until about a week after the cutting incident. It was early evening, and Callie and Mrs. Olmstead were in the kitchen, washing dishes. Jude was in the den doing homework, and Liam was watching a ballgame in the living room. The phone rang, and Mrs. Olmstead answered. After she hung up, she called Liam into the room.

"Dad's car broke down at work," she told her son. "I need to pick him up. Can you keep an eye on the kids?"

"Sure," Liam told his mother, smiling. "No problem."

Callie's stomach sunk to her feet. They would be alone with Liam! "Can Jude and I go with you?" She asked her foster mother.

"Don't be silly, Callie." Mrs Olmstead replied. "Jude is doing his homework and you have homework too. I'll only be gone twenty minutes, tops. Liam will be here."

_That's what I'm afraid of_, Callie thought, as Mrs. Olmstead grabbed her car keys and hurried out the kitchen door.

As soon as she was gone, Callie turned to leave the kitchen. She'd get Jude, and they'd lock themselves in her room, where they'd be safe. But before she could get away, Liam grabbed her arm, pulling her back.

"Ow!" She said. "Let go of me!" Liam pinned her against the wall. She was terrified. She called out for Jude, but it came out weak and raspy. We wouldn't hear her from the den, which was on the other side of the house.

"I feel like you've been avoiding me, Cal," Liam said in a cocky voice. "Are you trying to hurt my feelings?"

"You get the hell away from me," Callie told him. "Get your hands off of me."

Liam ran his hands down the length of her body, then rested them on her chest, pushing his fingers into her breastbone. "Since we're alone, I thought we could pick up where we left off. What do you say?"

Callie tried to twist away, but he moved in closer, pushing her against the wall even harder. She could feel his hot breath on her face. "No. I said get away from me," she told him.

Liam laughed. "Don't pretend you didn't like it," he said. "Because you sure could've fooled me."

Callie spat in his face, and tried again to get away. Liam slapped her, and she cried out.

"Remember what we talked about, Cal." He dug his fingers into her hips, pressing his body against hers. "I can destroy you, so you'd better keep your mouth shut and do what I say. It would be a shame if you ended up in a group home."

Callie was so scared, she felt numb. He cheek stung where she'd be struck. Liam began to kiss her, running his hands down her sides. He stuck his tongue down her throat, gagging her. She hated feeling him so close. She just wanted him to go away. She felt his hands going up her shirt, when something happened. The lock on the kitchen door clicked, and Mr. and Mrs. Olmstead entered the room.

Callie was relieved they'd come home before something truly awful happened, and better yet, they'd caught their son in the act! Now they'd have to see Liam for what he was.

Mr. Olmstead's face turned a dark shade of red, as he took in what was going on. "You!" He shouted, pointing at them. "What do you think you're doing, you little tramp! Get the hell away from my son!"

Callie felt deflated. What was wrong with this man? He jerked her away from Liam."I give you a roof over your head, and this is how you repay me? I ought to throw you out on your ass tonight!"

Mrs. Olmstead began to cry, and Jude, aware of the yelling that was going on, had just come into the room. "Leave my sister _alone!_" He yelled.

Mr. Olmstead told him to shut up. "Both of you ungrateful little brats are out of here first thing tomorrow morning," he told them. "I'd start packing tonight."

That night, Callie cried herself to sleep. Jude rubbed her back and wiped the tears off her face, until exhaustion overtook them both.

The next morning, Mrs. Olmstead told Callie and Jude to get ready. She was going to drive them to Social Services. Mr. Olmstead wasn't bluffing. They were really leaving. Callie knew that deep down, her foster father knew she wasn't to blame for what happened. But turning a blind eye to the abuse was just as bad as doing it himself, as far as she was concerned.

"I'd just as soon let you stay, if it were up to me," Mrs. Olmstead told Callie, as she helped the siblings gather their belongings.

Mrs. Olmstead had always been pretty nice to them. Her problem was that she was weak. She'd never defended them, and put way too much faith in her husband and son. But Callie still felt compassion for the woman. "Thank you for taking care of us," she told her.

"You're welcome, Callie," Mrs. Olmstead replied. "I only wish things had turned out differently."

"Me too," Callie told her foster mother.

"You take care of yourselves," the woman told them.

"We will," said Jude, as Mrs. Olmstead hugged them. They shouldered their knapsacks and followed her to the car.

Liam was standing in his bedroom doorway, when they passed by. Callie almost wanted to thank him for being so stupid. His getting caught was their ticket out of that house. She knew the pain he'd inflicted on her might never go away completely. What happened would stay with her forever. But who knew? Maybe the truth would come out someday. At least she and Jude would be somewhere, anywhere, else.

Callie didn't have high expectation for their next foster home; she'd been let down too many times. But as long as they were together, she knew they'd survive. Besides, wasn't each foster home just a way-station on their journey? In a few short years, Callie would age out of the system. Then, if they hadn't found a permanent home, she'd adopt Jude herself. They'd start a new life. Callie watched the Olmstead house disappear from view as they drove away. They had a long road ahead of them. She only hoped whatever was waiting at the end would be better.

The End.

Thank you for reading! Please review, and let me know what you think!


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